


It's Not What it Looks Like

by NaughtyPastryChef



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Barebacking, Bottom Sam, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, First Time, Fluff, Inspired by Art, M/M, Rimming, Sexual Tension, Smut, Soulmates, Top Dean, Wincest - Freeform, Wincest Reverse Bang, minor mentions of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-07 11:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11058186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyPastryChef/pseuds/NaughtyPastryChef
Summary: Wincest Reverse Bang 2017Working with a large group of people trained in observation has brought a lot of annoying comments to Sam and Dean recently. The tension and annoyance mounts until it finally reaches it's breaking point.





	It's Not What it Looks Like

**Author's Note:**

> I loved working with winchesterchola. Not just artistically talented but super fun and wonderful to talk to. Thank you for working with me dear! It's been amazing! Made into something coherent by doilycoffin who was an incredible beta and is a wonderful friend!

[Link to the AMAZING ART here](http://stargazingchola.livejournal.com/6643.html)

 

Dean loved to watch Sam and sometimes, when he’d been watching for a long time, he needed to get closer. And closer. That’s when he decided that he needed to touch. A hand on the shoulder. A knee resting against his own as they sat. Brushing the hair out of his face. Dean never examined the impulses too closely, unwilling to learn that kind of information about himself. About how he really felt about his little brother. He needed the closeness, craved it even. It soothed him and so he told himself that it made sense. He’d been looking after Sam since he was four and Sam was six months old; he just needed to reassure himself that Sam was okay.

Sam loved it when Dean was close enough to touch. He craved the brush of their arms as they walked and the press of knees as they squished together on a too-small couch. He needed it like plants needed sunlight. Dean was everything to him; his whole world. He wanted Dean’s exclusive attention all the time. It made him feel safe and loved and alive.

Personal space was the one thing that Sam and Dean Winchester could have and chose not to. They orbited each other. They were used to being in each other’s space and rarely did either of them think about it until they spent time with a large group of hunters and Men Of Letters; people trained in observing the out of the ordinary. Though, it was never out of ordinary for them, only for everyone else.

“I’ve never seen brothers as close as you two are.” Yet another un-asked for observation they’d received since they’d gotten mixed up in the British Men of Letters bringing the Hunters together into a community network. Dean ignored the statement completely but Sam couldn’t help himself and his face scrunched up with annoyance.

“We were raised to watch each other’s backs, in tiny little apartments and hotel rooms as we moved from town to town. We were raised as hunters. Of course Dean and I are close.” Sam snapped out, unable to stop himself. Dean slapped him upside the back of the head and gave him a look that said “quit it.”

“Yeah, I know, but aren’t you tired of it? I mean, we’re close. They need to deal with it.” Sam snorted in that special way he had and Dean couldn’t stop from rolling his eyes.

“We gotta play nice with them, Sammy. Just ignore it. People have been talking about us like this since we were kids. Just, let it go.” Dean had backed Sam up against the wall, talking low and close the way they always did when they were surrounded by people.

“Boys! Come on now!” Mary shouted and both boys turned to look at their mother, waiting impatiently at the end of the hall for them. They separated and moved in unison to catch up to her.

As they walked, Sam shook off the butterflies that always appeared in his stomach when Dean was that close. Even though, in some way or another, he was always that close. But Dean,  Dean had the ability to be so intense when he was staring in your eyes. When his green eyes were up close and his face was close enough that Sam found himself getting lost in the constellation of Dean’s freckles.

“Sammy, head outta the clouds. C’mon.” Sam mentally shook off his less than fraternal thoughts about his intelligent, beautiful, and intense big brother and lengthened his strides to catch up to the group.

An hour later found Sam doing triage, yet again, for a group of hunters that had been caught unaware. He couldn’t help but glare at his mother as he patched one person up and finally got over to his brother, who’d hidden how bad his injuries were so that Sam would help everyone else first.

“Dean, you-you’ve lost a lot of blood. And this wound is ragged and dirty. What stabbed you, a dirt covered tree branch?” Sam tried to act annoyed but when he’d lifted Dean’s bloody shirt away and seen the wound, his heart began to race and blood thundered in his ear. It was bad.

“Yeah, Sammy, I got stabbed by a murderous tree. C’mon, shaddup about it and fix it. I trust you, little brother,” Dean whispered, his hand curling around the back of Sam’s neck and pulling him down until their foreheads were pressed together. “You got this. You got me, right?” Dean whispered, close enough that his breath moved the hair hanging in Sam’s face.

“Yeah Dee, I got you.” He reluctantly pulled away, his eyes never leaving Dean’s pale face as he yelled for the supplies that he would need. “Towel, new needles and thread, hot water and some kind of disinfectant, I don’t care if it’s the last bottle of whiskey we’ve got, I want it in my hand in less than two minutes,” he shouted to the room, his eyes never leaving the glazed ones of his brother.

“I got you Dee.”

When Dean was patched up and the cleanup was over, Sam curled onto the couch next to his brother, their long limbs tangling together without thought to who might be watching and observing. Mary looked on with confusion and the community of hunters around her looked on with suspicion. Perhaps the rumors about John Winchester’s boys were right.

Dean woke up and rolled over gently, avoiding the wound low on his belly. He opened his eyes to see what had woken him and came face to face with Sam, face crunched up and nearly crying in his sleep. Dean shifted the two of them so that he was holding Sam, his fingers threading into the thick hair on the back of Sam’s head as he tugged Sam down so that his ear lay flat on Dean’s chest. Then he whispered into Sam’s hair sleepily, “shhhh, I’m alright, you’re alright. Shhh, c’mon Sammy boy. Go back to sleep, baby.”

Sam’s features smoothed out and his whimpering stopped and both boys drifted off to sleep. Mary, who despite herself still slept like a Hunter mother with a newborn and always awoke at the slightest sound, opened her eyes in the darkness and thought hard.  It couldn’t be what it looked like, could it?

 

Another day, another case, another nest of Vampires. Dean didn’t think he would ever get used to having as much backup as they’d had recently; he was used to relying on himself and Sammy. Occasionally they had Cass and rarely wishing, futilely, that John or Bobby were there with them. Having a group of hunters and a plan behind them felt weird and he couldn’t stop bringing it up to Sam.

“I dunno man. Bobby and Dad said never to trust anyone but each other and I just can’t stop thinking about that. And another thing-” He started, but Sam had had enough.

Sam gripped the lapels of Dean’s jacket and lifted him up off his feet, pressing his back into a nearby tree so that they were totally eye to eye.

“Quit it. Just quit it, Dean. They’re here, we have a plan, we gotta trust them. I know you’d rather have Dad or Bobby or Benny but we don’t have any of them; we have these guys,” Sam gritted out, leaning closer and closer until the tips of their noses were touching and they were breathing in each other’s breath.

Dean’s mouth snapped shut and he felt a flush sweep over his whole body. The way Sam was effortlessly manhandling him was giving him some serious feelings and he couldn’t really sort them out as he tried to stay focused on the mission. He swept his gaze over Sam’s annoyed face and couldn’t stop the thought that Sam was one of the most attractive people he’d ever seen in his life. It was intoxicating, in a way, to be held hostage and held close by someone larger than him and stronger than him but someone that he trusted implicitly.

“I’ll stop.” He forced out, lowering his gaze to where Sam’s hands were clenched in his lapels. He watched the whitened knuckles loosen and felt himself slip down the few inches until his feet were back on the ground, but Sam didn’t back away. Dean looked up and got lost in the galaxy of colors in Sam’s eyes. He felt like he was on the verge of something of a thought when he heard a yell from Mary for them to focus and Sam stumbled a few steps backwards.

“Right, mission. Vamp nest. Got it.” Sam stuttered as he squared his shoulders and turned away.

Dean felt bereft, somehow. Even though Sam was right there beside him, he felt like he was missing something important between them. He pushed the feelings down, down, down until he was walking on them; much like the feelings a 21 year old Dean had started to feel about a 17 year old Sam back in the day. The year Sam had shot up a foot in height and his lankiness turned to muscle. The secret smiles that Sam used to give to only him and the way that they made him feel.

 

“No, absolutely not, I’m digging my stubborn American heels in on this one. Sam and I have dealt with Djinn before and it didn’t go well and I’m not doing it again.” Every time Dean even thought about their dealings with the djinn years ago his heart began to race with panic. He fell into a loop of thinking about Sam’s dream world where Sam was successful and happy and had a life and nothing to do with Dean.

Subconsciously, he stepped backwards into Sam’s solid body, taking strength and calm from the large body of his brother behind him. He felt Sam reach up and put a hand on his shoulder and it made his breathing begin to slow and the panic begin to seep away.

“If that’s how you really feel, Dean, we can deal with the djinn without you.” Mary stepped forward with the intention of soothing the panic out of her eldest only to see that Sam was already taking care of it. She could see their breathing sync up; she could see that the pulse beats in their necks even synced up. She bit her tongue and wondered.

“That’s fine. You guys wanna take on a djinn, go ahead, but me and Sam won’t have anything to do with it. I wont-” Dean cut himself off as Sam leaned down and whispered in his ear to calm him.

“We’re good. We can help research the next one. Be careful guys, but we’re heading back to the bunker.” Sam was the one who spoke then, and Mary noticed as they began to leave that there was no room between them; air could not get between them.

She added it to her list of observances and kept quiet.

Castiel came up to her then, a curious look on his face. He stood next to her, at a respectful distance, and watched with her as her boys stayed in sync all the way until they got to the car. Then they separated and got in, peeling away as Dean always does when he’s driving; and he always drove.

“Your sons are very special, Mary. Did you know they share a heaven?” He asked, apropos of nothing. She blinked and turned to look at him. The information clicked in her head, but she hardly dared to say it aloud.

“Not even John and I… soulmates?” She asked, breathless.

Castiel nodded and smiled in the way that he did when he’s pleased with something that a human has done.

“What does that mean?” She asked, not really sure that she wanted to know the answer.

“It means that your sons are special. Destined to spend eternity together. It means that God has decided that there is no one more suited to Dean than Sam and no one more suited to Sam than Dean. It’s a beautiful thing to see, really. I wish I could show their bond to you; it’s quite intricate and beautiful. Nothing that they could ever do would be wrong or bad in the eyes of the Lord.” And with that, the odd, Earth-bound angel wandered away and Mary was left wondering again.

 

Spending so much time around a hunter network, a ramshackle family even, was changing the dynamics between Sam and Dean, and Sam couldn't tell if it was good or bad. They talked closer to each other; they moved even more in sync; they spent more time shoulder to shoulder than ever before, almost as though they were covering each other’s backs from the community of hunters that surrounded them. But it was even more than that. Sam started to feel differently about his Dean.

He wanted Dean’s attention more acutely than he had since he was a little kid. He blossomed beneath Dean’s gaze. It made him feel alive; made him feel special; made him feel loved. He started to cling to Dean’s side even more and Dean began to snap at him for it. For all their closeness was making them fight.

They snipped and bickered back and forth like kids again. Like they did in the backseat of the Impala when it was too small for two growing boys and neither one wanted to share the space. Dean shoved Sam and Sam shoved back. More than once, they found themselves dropping into a fighting crouch just to get their hands on the other, though neither one of them really knew why.

Mary, Ketch, Davies, and even Crowley were noticing. All of them stood by and watched silently, keeping them on track as much as they could until one day, one innocuous day. They were in a bar, trying to bring a sense of camaraderie between the American hunters and the British Men of Letters that, despite successful missions, still wasn't’ there.  There was good bar food and good beer and pool and a general sense of wellbeing when, finally, Sam lost it.

He could never remember what it was that Dean said that made him so mad that he slammed his brother up against the wall and dragged him off his feet by the lapels, but the room fell totally silent when he did. He leaned in close to Dean, his emotions swirling and all tied up and feeling like a teenager again, with too many hormones and no outlet.

“Sammy.” Dean breathed, a question, a statement, everything all in one. Sam moved his face closer so their noses were touching.

“Dean.” His reply, simple, but all he could get out at that moment. He felt Dean’s hips move and suddenly everything was clearer.

Dean was hard, the outline of his cock clear where it was pressing into Sam’s stomach. Sam twisted his own hips subtly, letting Dean know that he was hard too. They had to resolve this. Sam needed to get his hands on Dean more than he could in a room full of…

His eyes widened in alarm. He’d forgotten that the room was full of hunters; people trained in reading the most subtle of clues. People trained in observation. He heard someone clear their throat, and he and Dean turned as one to see many sets of eyes fixed on them.

“We should go,” Dean said through unmoving lips and Sam concurred. He let go of Dean’s lapels and dropped him down to the floor. He took a step back, trying to shimmy his hips so that the hem of his shirt would fall and conceal the clear bulk of his dick in his jeans. As he lifted his eyes towards the door,  he made eye contact with Mary.

Mary, their pseudo mother, was looking at them with clear confusion in her eyes, but he saw no disgust there. She didn’t know them, she didn’t know their lives, and even Sam wasn’t certain what was going to happen when they were alone. All these thoughts must have flashed across his face as he looked at her because her expression went carefully blank, the same way that Dean’s did when he didn’t want Sam to read him.

“C’mon Sammy.” Dean hooked a hand around Sam’s elbow and led him to the door and all thoughts of Mary were vanished from his mind when he felt Dean’s fingers stroke along the inside of his elbow.

“Yeah. We gotta. We gotta go.”

Safely in the car, finally feeling the weight of all those eyes off them, Dean went still and silent and Sam followed his lead, sitting in the passenger seat of their home and waiting. “I dunno what’s going to happen,” Dean started, low and quiet enough that Sam had to lean towards him to actually hear what he was saying, “But I know that I’ve thought a lot about it.” Dean paused and looked up, catching Sam’s eye. Sam’s breath was taken away by the heat and the desire on Dean’s face.

“But I know what I want to happen. So I’m going to act as though that is the foregone conclusion.” His hand came up between them slowly and curled around the back of Sam’s neck, tugging Sam across the bench seat. Dean tilted his head and pressed his lips to Sam’s for one endless second, before he let go and made an inquisitive noise.

“Yes,” Sam groaned as he dove back in for more kisses, more of Dean’s plush mouth, more of the thing that he just realized he’d been wanting. “Drive” he mumbled against Dean’s lips, his eyes closed so that he could feel more.

“Can’t drive till you let me go, Sammy.” Dean laughed back and Sam pulled away, all the way over to the passenger side door. “If I touch you I won’t stop. Drive, Dee.” He whined, rocking his hips up into his hand, pressing hard on the bulge of his cock.

Dean tore his eyes away and revved the engine of the car as they peeled out of the parking lot at break-neck speeds. Dean couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting back over to Sam where he was whining and rubbing himself over his jeans and staring at Dean’s hands.

“You want my hands, baby boy?” The words were husky, deep, and out before Dean could stop them. He tightened his fingers on the wheel as Sam whined and his legs twitched visibly.

“Want it all Dean. Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted? Your mouth, your hands, your dick, your ass. I want it all and then I want to do it all again and then I want you to do it all to me. Every single thing you’ve ever done or ever thought of; that’s what I want you to do with me. Or to me, which ever.” The car swerved, kicking up dirt from the side of the road as Dean corrected it back onto the road.

“Fuck, Sammy, you can’t say shit like that to me. You .. baby...Sammy.” Dean gave up with a groan. He couldn’t talk and drive and think about all the things that he was going to do to Sammy at the same time. He had to focus. He had to get them there in one piece so they could do all the delicious, dirty things that were running through his mind. He glanced over and saw that Sam now had his hand inside his pants to the wrist. He looked up and caught Sam’s eye.

“Drive faster, Dee.” Dean’s foot pressed harder on the gas pedal and the engine revved again. “Trying, Sammy, I’m tryin.” He forced his eyes to the road and gripped the wheel impossibly tighter, his knuckles popping.

The tires squealed as Dean turned into the parking lot of the motel and again as he turned into a parking space and slammed on the breaks. He pulled the key from the ignition and sat there for a moment, gathering his thoughts as he rubbed sweaty palms on his thighs.

“We should talk Sammy,” he started, but Sam huffed and opened his door, shoving himself out of the car in a rush. Dean watched Sam’s long legs and perfect ass as Sam made his way to their room and opened the door, standing in the doorway and turning to give what could only be a challenging look to Dean before he let himself into the darkened room, leaving the door open just enough to be an invitation.

One that Dean had no intention of turning down, despite the fact that he knew they needed to talk. He threw himself out of the car and strode quickly towards the cracked open door, blinking in shock when a light came on inside the room behind. He couldn’t hear anything as he approached.

He shoved open the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him quickly. He scanned the room and called out, “Sammy?” as he kicked off his boots and tossed his over shirt and jacket across the table just inside the door.

The door to the bathroom was shut and he lay himself down across the bed he’d claimed as his own, crossing his arms and ankles and waiting. Maybe Sam decided that they were going to talk, first. That’s okay. He’d calmed down now that Sam wasn’t in the room, distracting him with all his giant, intoxicating ways. He closed his eyes and fought to think clearly about what he wanted to say instead of what he wanted to do. He didn’t think he was tired enough to fall asleep but the next thing he knew was Sam, in a towel with damp hair, shaking him awake.

“I didn’t think I took that long.” Sam was sheepish as he eased onto the bedspread next to Dean’s hip, his fingers splaying across Dean’s lower stomach. “I just wanted to .. get ready.” The pause in his speech and the flush on his cheeks explained what Sam meant and Dean felt his heart speed up at the thought.

“We gotta talk Sammy.” He reiterated as he sat up, shoving backwards on the bed so his back was resting against the wall.

“I know we should, but do we have to? If we really had to, wouldn’t I be the one trying to goad you into a conversation?” Sam asked, shifting on the bed and his towel opening to show the entirety of his left leg all the way to the hip; Dean’s attention faltered.

“Has it always been like this? For.. for you? For us? Have you always…” Dean forced himself to ask aloud, but he was also asking himself. Did he always live in Sam’s orbit for this reason?

“Not… intentionally. I’ve always liked to be close and stay close to you. And there were always… feelings. But I never thought about it, never let myself think about it. I just wanted you near me. Close enough to touch all the time. Seems obvious now.” Sam answered softly, his fingers grazing the outside seam of Dean’s jeans.

“Yeah. For people who are supposed to notice things for a living we sure missed this one,” Dean replied, reaching out to still the fidget of Sam’s fingers with his own.

“Haven’t we waited for long enough? Dee I want you so much I can’t even think about anything else.” Sam wiggled closer, his towel snagging on the cheap bedspread and opening to expose more of him but not quite everything Dean wanted to see.

“Sammy, you’re making it hard for me to think,” Dean admitted and glanced up to see the knowing smirk on Sam’s face. Sam’s big hand moved and came down on Dean’s knee, slowly moving upwards towards Dean’s crotch.

“That was the plan, Dean. For everything I know about you, I don’t know how you are in bed. But I wanna know. I’m trying to find out; is it hard?” Sam’s hand finally landed on the outline of Dean’s cock in his jeans, palm curling around the outline of the shaft, fingers teasing at the head.

“Is this kink negotiation, Sammy? I want it all. Nothing is off the table but you’re such a fucking TEASE, baby boy. I don’t know how much you’ll be able to get from me this first time.” Dean groaned, humping his hips up towards Sam’s big, warm hand and wishing that he’d taken his jeans off already.

“A little submissive, that’s not too surprising. And I know you like the way I manhandle you.” Sam mused aloud, tossing the damp towel off the bed and to the floor and shifting so that he was laying on top of Dean. The denim of Dean’s jeans wasn’t the most pleasant thing he’d ever felt on his cock but it wasn’t the worst either. Sam leaned forward and stole a kiss, followed by another and another until he had Dean whining in the back of his throat and they were both pulling and tearing at his clothes, trying to get them off.

“Bed is too damn small. God you’re big.” Dean grunted between kisses as he tried to get his tee shirt untucked from his jeans even as Sam was tugging carefully at the fly of his jeans to get them off. Finally Dean was down to his black boxer-briefs and Sam couldn’t stop himself as he pressed his face to the crease of Dean’s thigh, face next to the outline of his cock, and inhaled.

“Heheheh, Sammy, tickling me isn’t -heheh- isn’t going to get you what you want right now, hahaha.” Dean giggled and curled up, shoving at Sam’s head to get it to move away and stop tickling him.

Sam lifted his head and smiled like the cat who got the canary, “mmmm, I’d forgotten you were ticklish. But you’re right, another time.” Sam pushed himself up on his arms and moved his body again so that he was sitting astride Dean’s thighs.

“So many things I wanna do. Gotta keep it tame this time, yeah? Kink negotiation next time? Want you to fuck me big brother. Want your cock in my tight ass. All prepped and ready for you. Can I ride you, Dee?” Sam asked, and Dean felt his whole body break into a flush as he began to sweat.

This was already better than Dean could have ever imagined. Sam was huge and sweaty and gorgeous and so manly above him that it was making his head spin a little bit. He grabbed at Sam’s hips, his fingertips curling around the top of Sam’s cheeks, pulling them apart. He wished he could see. He must have voiced that thought aloud because Sam wiggled around and turned to straddle him in the reverse cowgirl.

Dean grabbed those perfect cheeks, pulling them apart to see the sweet bud between them. He could smell the generic motel soap on Sam’s skin and it made his scalp prickle; he was certain the scent would turn him on forever. He tugged at Sam’s hips, making Sam move backwards on his prone body until Dean’s nose was nearly nestled between Sam’s cheeks. Then Sam grabbed Dean’s ankles and lay himself flat across Dean’s body, curling his hips back to pop his magnificent ass in the air.

“Sammy.” Dean breathed across the sensitive skin in front of his face. His mouth watered and he couldn’t stop if he wanted to, and he really didn’t want to. He pressed his face into Sam’s crack, flickering his tongue out and across the skin there, loving the way it made Sam shimmy his ass closer, and the way it made both of them groan with pleasure. Dean licked across the puckered rim of Sam’s ass, loving the feel against his tongue, loving the taste of Sam’s clean skin, loving the way that he could feel as the muscle softened and allowed him to slip the tip of his tongue inside Sam and feel how hot and tight he was inside.

“Fuck. Not this time. You do that and I’m gonna blow before you even get your cock in me and I really need your cock in me.” Sam shoved himself sloppily off the bed and headed towards his bag on unsteady legs. When he turned around Dean sucked in a deep breath.

Dean had felt Sam’s cock against him but this was the first time he’d seen it clearly; Sam was massive. Involuntarily, he clenched at the thought of trying to get that inside of him. Sam noticed and slowed on his way back to the bed, squeezing lube onto his fingers and reaching behind himself.

“We can work up to it, if you’re worried. It’s a big cock, I know. This time, though, I want yours inside me. Look at me.” Sam commanded and Dean’s eyes snapped up to meet his. Sam smiled. “Wanna watch me prep? Wanna help? The cost is your boxers.” Sam had never seen Dean strip off his clothes that fast but when Dean was laid out, all that pale, freckled, scarred skin exposed to his eyes, it was worth it. Obliging, he turned around and bent at the waist just a little, showing Dean how he had two thick fingers inside him already, and the whole area was glistening with lube.

“Oh fuck. So pretty. We gonna get messy, baby? You want me to come inside you so it can drip all out? Or you want me to pull out and come all over that pretty ass? Tell me what you want, Baby boy.”

Sam pulled his fingers out too fast and turned around to see that Dean was stroking his cock slowly but firmly. He tossed him the lube with his dry hand. “Come inside me. Wanna feel it fill me up.” Sam growled, marching over to the bed and standing next to it, watching intently as Dean coated his cock with lube. As soon as Dean pulled his hand away, Sam was back on the bed, swinging his leg over Dean’s body and lifting himself up so he could drop himself down on Dean’s cock.

They both paused when Sam came all the way down, his ass meeting Dean’s hip bones. Sam was trembling minutely and Dean reached up and put his hands on Sam’s ribcage. “Did I hurt you?”

Sam’s eyes flashed open as he rolled his hips experimentally and clenched around the solid pole of Dean’s cock in his ass. “I don’t mind if it hurts a little. OH fuck, that’s good. Roll your hips opposite of mine.” Sam rocked back and forth as Dean rolled his hips up and down and quickly both of them were huffing for breath and shiny with sweat.

“Fuck, that’s good.” Sam whined in the back of his throat, sounding much younger than he was, when Dean rubbed his thumbs over his peaked nipples.

“You’re sensitive all over, aren’t you, baby? Nipples and sweet little asshole. Can’t wait to find out where else. C’mon baby, you need my hand on you?” Dean was breathless, he could feel his orgasm coming fast.

Sam whined again, his voice going thready and high as he squirmed in Dean’s lap. His eyes were closed and his head tipped towards the ceiling exposing the length of his neck to Dean. “Dee, right there….hngh, right there. No, I can come like this.” He whimpered and that was all Dean could take. Sam writhing on top of him and whining that he could come just from being fucked, Dean’s muscles locked as he emptied himself inside Sam. Pulse after pulse of come, until his balls hurt from it. He opened his eyes finally and looked up to see Sam’s eyes still closed, hips still rolling, cock still red and dripping, balls still high and tight.

“Feel me inside you, baby boy? C’mon. Come on my cock. Come for me Sammy.” Dean breathed, tightening his stomach to curl up towards Sam and as his sweaty stomach brushed the tip of Sam’s cock, Sam opened his eyes and came with a groan. He came all over Dean’s stomach and his own, even splashing up to the underside of his chin.

Sam leaned forward and pushed Dean back down onto the mattress as he came down, their breathing and heart beats synching up as they lay there and came back from orgasm. Sam wiggled his hips and made a small noise as he felt Dean’s cock soften and slip out, followed by a glob of come and lube.

“Sexy in the moment and gross afterwards.” Sam complained and made to move away and clean up, but Dean’s arms came up around his back, holding him tight and stopping him from moving. He turned and looked down into Dean’s blissed out face, huffing out a small laugh. “Shoulda known you were a cuddler.” He lay his head back down on Dean’s sweaty shoulder and just breathed, finally where they both wanted to be.


End file.
